


"What can I do if I can't even please a boy band?"

by orphan_account



Category: Best Song Ever - One Direction (Music Video), One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, idk i get pissed at somethings and this happened, just a bse thing, strong!marcel, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:16:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically Marcel looses his job after the events of the start of the Best Song Ever clip and shit goes down. Angry/Sad!Marcel Sorry!1D</p>
            </blockquote>





	"What can I do if I can't even please a boy band?"

Marcel sat hopelessly outside the office door as he listened to One Direction destroy the room. He was on the floor with his legs pulled to his chest and his glasses set to the side. He idly fiddled with the corner of one of his muck-ups he had spent hours creating with a broken heart. He was trying to do his best. He really was, but he guessed it wasn’t enough. Veronica was at her desk down the hall, on the phone with someone important as usual and not paying attention to him. He looked down again at the snapped board and let out a heavy sigh. Heavy footsteps thumped up the hallway and he could practically feel the steam of anger coming from both bodies that stopped in front of him. 

“Marcel you’re fired,” Harvey spat out harshly. Marcel flinched but nodded, it was his entire fault anyway. 

“Don’t bother cleaning off your desk either, we’ll get someone skilled enough to look over the files you left and send back the useless stuff,” Jonny followed.

Marcel felt a tear slip off his cheek and nodded. Picking up his glasses from beside him and listened to the over-weight men storm off. 

He wiped away the tear and slipped on his glasses. He picked himself up off the ground and heard laughing from inside the room. His heart broke but he was suddenly filled with an undeniable rage and he squeezed his fists harshly. He pushed open the door and let his nose flare with anger as he watched the boys laugh as Zayn drew derogative signs on the wall. None of them payed attention to him and it set him off the edge. 

“OI! STOP THAT RIGHT NOW,” he yelled angrily. All of his ‘nerdy-ness’ had disappeared and a new part of him was unleashed. The boys jumped slightly and looked around at the fuming boy. 

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT YOU HAVE JUST DONE? YOU COST ME MY JOB YOU FUCK UPS!” he yelled angrily. Their mouths dropped open and Zayn dropped the pen. Angry tears welled up in his eyes and he continued to yell. 

“ALL YOU HAD TO DO IS SAY YOU DIDN’T LIKE MY IDEAS, NOT FUCKING TRASH THE OFFICE! HOW IMMATURE ARE YOU ALL? YOU’RE ACTING LIKE YOU BELONG IN HIGH SCHOOL FOR GODS SAKE! YOU ARE TO CLEAN UP THIS MESS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I JUST LOST MY JOB AND I DON’T WANT MY LAST PAY CHEQUE TO BE USED FOR THE CLEAN UP OF THIS PLACE – AND THAT’S IF I EVEN GET MY LAST CHEQUE!” He let out an angry breath and pushed his glasses up his nose before storming out of the room.

He glared angrily at everyone who walked past him, even Veronica who looked shocked after hearing what he had just yelled. He flipped Harvey and Jonny the bird and slammed his way out of the building and down the road to his bus stop.

He paced around angrily, clenching and unclenching his fist until his bus came, stepping on and thanking that he had his phone with his pass hidden in the case in his pocket; he slumped down on one of the seats and thought about how stupid he looked. 

Slicked back hair, neat attire but a face of rage. People were probably laughing at him. He glared at the seat in front of him until his thoughts died down and despair filled his chest. 

He just got fired.

He yelled at his favourite band.

He was rude to Veronica. 

He left his flat keys at his desk. 

He held back tears until it came to his stop. Walking off the bus more calmly than when he climbed on, he walked slowly with his shoulders hunched and arms wrapped across his chest. He walked into the building of apartments and knocked on the land lord’s door slowly. 

“Oh hello Marcel, you’re back early,” Mrs Jays said politely. 

“Uh yeah um, I forgot my keys to my flat. Um, can I please borrow your spares?” he asked softly. 

“Of course dear, I’ll just be a moment,” the elderly lady said sweetly as she moved from the door. Marcel looked down at his shoes until she returned, handing him a key off a ring and sent him on his way. Climbing the stairs, he got to the third level quickly and pushed his way through the door. Locking it behind him, he moved to the couch and just collapsed and started to cry his heart out. He was such a failure. 

Marcel woke a few hours later from knocking at his door and he sat up groggily, wiping his sore eyes from under his glasses and cracking his back. He placed his glasses on the table and loosened his tight collar before walking to the door and opening it slowly. 

His eyes blinked sleepily but focused on the five band members standing and looking at him apologetically. He glared at them, his earlier anger coming back and went to slam the door, a hand shooting out to stop it. 

“Marcel please, we want to apologize,” Zayn spoke.

“I don’t need your apologies,” Marcel glared.

“Please, we feel really bad about what we did,” Harry mumbled. 

“And you should. What if me and my friends went gallivanting during one of your concerts and said all of your songs were crap?” he sassed. 

“We know you’re angry but we wanted to let you know that we cleaned the office and fixed everything,” Louis piped up. 

“Doesn’t get me my job back does it?” Marcel grumbled, he leaned against his door stand as the boys shifted their weight on their feet.

“No but we can talk to Harvey and Jonny to get you your job back if you want?” Niall said, obviously trying to bring hope into the situation. 

“Don’t bother, I’m useless there. Don’t even know why I became a marketing manager if I can’t even please a freaking boy band for god’s sake,” Marcel expressed as he rolled his eyes. 

“Can we come in?” Louis asked. 

“Are you going to tear the place to shreds?” Marcel asked harshly. 

“No, I don’t even know why that happened to be honest with you,” Liam answered for Louis. 

Marcel let out a harsh blow of air and pushed the door back for them to enter. The walked in fairly quickly and Marcel shut and locked the door behind Niall who was the last in. He gestured for them to sit down and he stood behind the coffee table, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“You’re not quite the nerd are you?” Louis pointed out. 

“LOUIS!” Zayn scolded. 

“No I mean like, yeah you dress like that and your obviously super smart if you’re a business manager but where’d you learn to yell like that or look that intimidating?” Louis asked Marcel. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Marcel huffed. 

After that, the boys explained their actions, there being no logical reason in Marcel’s mind to be incredibly rude and ruin a neat office, and all headed out just before Marcel’s usual dinner time. He opened the door and watched everyone walk out and wave as they walked down the hall. Louis however stayed at his door and just as Marcel was about to shut it for the final time that evening, Louis spoke up.

“I really am sorry you know,” he said once more. 

“I get that but-“ Marcel was cut off by a pair of lips on his own. He responded to the kiss hesitantly but pulled back slowly.   
Louis blushed and looked down at his shoes. 

“Um, yeah so I left my number on the coffee table if you ever want to get over today’s events and maybe get some tea?” he blushed.  
Marcel blushed back, taken back but nodded slowly. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky,” Marcel responded. Louis nodded and waved as he trailed down the hallway after his band mates. Marcel shut the door and walked over to the table and sure enough, a perfectly printed number was resting on a scrap piece of paper. 

To: Louis T.  
Next time if you want to make a first impression on someone, don’t make them loose their job. –M.


End file.
